


Feels Like Beautiful Madness

by Imoshen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: All Human!AU, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Adam, Bottom Lucifer, Bottom Michael, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Falling In Love, Jack is adorable, M/M, Mob Boss!Lucifer, Non-graphic Murder, Strangers to Lovers, Top Adam, Top Lucifer, Top Michael, assasin!Adam, canon-typical non-graphic violence, happy endings, mention of anal plugs, mob boss!Michael, probably danger kink, probably voyeurism, switching all around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25846879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imoshen/pseuds/Imoshen
Summary: Adam, codename: Hunter is good at his job, and he never mixes business with pleasure. Until his work brings him into contact with Lucifer Alighieri and Michael Milton, who hire him... and really want to mix business with pleasure. When it seems as if he was lied to, Hunter goes to confront his clients... with a very different result than anticipated.
Relationships: Michael/Lucifer, Michael/Lucifer/Adam, mentioned Castiel/Kelly Kline
Comments: 18
Kudos: 33
Collections: Supernatural Trope Celebration 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Supernatural Trope Celebration Bang 2020.
> 
> The art is by the awesome [PassionPhantom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PassionPhantom), please tell them how awesome they are!
> 
> Beta done by by [Silvaxus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvaxus)

The wind is icy this far up, tugging and pushing at Adam’s hair and clothes. He is used to it, though. Except for his cheeks, no part of him is exposed. He’s not exactly comfortable, but he’s also not freezing as he waits for the opportune moment.

It arrives, as these moments always do. Adam smiles even as his finger gently puts more pressure on the trigger, and he watches through his scope as the bullet finds its target. The spray of blood is very red against the light carpet, but that is not going to be Adam’s problem.

He packs up his gear with a few short, economic movements and is gone even before the first siren wails its way up to what has just been turned into the scene of a murder.

Adam has been in the business long enough to make a name for himself, and he is rather proud of the reputation he has – quick, clean work and no hints for the police to follow, but Do Not Cross Him or you’ll regret it. He’s also made very certain everybody who contacts him knows not to involve a minor.

He might be an assassin for hire and not a shining example of morals, but even he draws the line at children.

Still, when the address he was provided with his latest potential contract turns out to be a honest-to-God fucking _mansion_ , Adam takes a moment after killing the engine of his motorcycle to stare. This house looks like old money, and he did his research before coming here. The name the person who contacted him provided was that of someone well-off, but not someone of this background. Some things can’t be hidden deep enough Adam won’t find them, and this kind of money is one of them.

He considers that he might be walking into a trap, but Adam’s not in this line of work because he’s faint of heart and runs at the first sign of problems. He’s not carrying anything potentially incriminating on his person, and he’s talked his way out of more difficult situations before.

The door is answered by a boy who is maybe six years old. Adam blinks and smiles at the child. “Hello, young sir. Is anyone home?”

The boy doesn’t answer but stares up at Adam with wide eyes. They’re fascinating, one eye bright blue, the other light brown. Adam has heard of this little quirk of life but doesn’t recall the scientific name for it. Before he can ask more questions, quick footsteps approach from inside the house, and then the door is pulled open further by a harried-looking woman. “I am sorry,” she blurts out immediately. “Jack here knows he shouldn’t answer the door alone, but he’s a curious young man.”

“It’s fine,” Adam says, smiling to show he means it. “I was a curious young man once. No harm done.”

Her smile is quick but honest. Adam decides he likes her. “How can I help you, sir?”

“I have an appointment with a Mr. Cohen,” Adam watches her eyes widen a little and her face pale in understanding before she tugs Jack back by his shoulders.

“Certainly, sir. Please come in.” Her voice is utterly professional now. “You are expected in Mr. Cohen’s private study down the hall.”

Adam glances left and right as he walks down that hallway, noting the expensive art and decoration choices. Old money, indeed. He’s starting to wonder exactly what kind of a mess he walked into, believing it a simple contract, but his finely-tuned sense of Impending Disastrous Doom (Dean’s words, not his) isn’t telling him to run yet. He knocks on the door he was pointed to, waits for the muffled “enter!” from the other side, and pushes it open.

His first thought is that he was right, this is old money, and the kind that wasn’t earned through entirely legal means, either.

His second though is that he’s potentially fucked, and not in the fun way.

Lucifer Alighieri watches from his position next to his partner’s desk as the young man they contacted to deal with their… problem takes in the whole of the room, Michael, and himself with quick flicks of his eyes. He doesn’t blanch, doesn’t stiffen or otherwise react to finding himself confronted not with a man of moderate wealth and no connections worth mentioning but with himself and Lucifer instead. The only sign he didn’t fully expect to meet them today is the small twitch of his mouth before he strides into the room, letting the door fall shut again behind him.

“I presume Mr. Cohen is not available for a conversation,” are his first words. Lucifer has to hide an amused grin.

“I’m afraid he is not,” he agrees, gesturing to the lone chair waiting in front of the desk. “Please. Can we offer a drink?”

Their guest takes a seat, moving with a fluid grace that hints at the kind of strength hidden beneath those motorcycle leathers. “Water, please. I make it a habit not to mix work and pleasure.”

“Smart choice,” Lucifer agrees, turning a little to fetch the requested water from the small fridge built into the bookcase. He glances at Michael as he sets the sealed bottle down in front of their guest and has to hide his reaction – he knows that look in Michael’s eyes. That’s interest of a very specific sort.

Interesting.

“I must admit,” his partner begins once Lucifer has seated himself in his customary spot next to the desk, “we expected The Hunter to be a bit… older.”

The man known as Hunter grins. “I get that a lot,” he says dryly. “Since I expected to meet with a single manager and not two rumored mob bosses, I think we’re even, no?”

This time, Lucifer can’t hide his amused grin. Even Michael’s lips twitch into an amused expression. “You make a point,” he agrees easily. “Our apologies for the ruse, but it pays to be overly cautious in our position.”

Blue eyes flick to Lucifer before Hunter concentrates on Michael again. “Considering I am relatively certain you would not need to hire someone of my expertise, I am curious what kind of a situation we are talking about.”

Damn, pretty _and_ smart. Lucifer thinks they may have to tempt Hunter into mixing business with pleasure after all. The quick glance Michael shoots in his direction seems to be confirmation of that thought.

“We tend to keep business and family strictly separate,” Michael begins calmly. “Using our own… assets would not only mean stepping over that line but erasing it completely, and we are not willing to risk that. It might set a precedent.”

Hunter tilts his head just a little and nods. “The situation you need my skillset for is of a private nature then, not a business associate who overstepped their bounds.”

“A little of both, actually.” Michael grimaces. “I would prefer not to air all our family’s dirty laundry. What you need to know is this: a child exists that is biologically Lucifer’s son, but the boy’s father is someone else in all the ways that count. He lived with his mother and her partner, which was an arrangement everyone agreed upon before the child was even conceived.”

Hunter’s blue eyes flick to Lucifer again, who holds that assessing gaze and gives a slight nod. Michael isn’t telling a lie, they agreed beforehand it would be a needless risk. Nobody in Hunter’s position and line of work is stupid enough to try and make money from secrets such as this one.

Michael continues once Hunter returns his attention to him. “A new organization has since built up a considerable power base. We did not consider it a problem until very recently. The mother was offered a position in an overseas company and intended to leave the child in her partner’s care. We are not yet entirely certain what happened, but little Jack’s father is in the hospital with severe injuries after what we can only call an attempt at assassinating him and abducting Jack. We have not been able to reach his mother yet, as she seems to never have arrived at her destination.” Michael has to pause and take a sip of his own drink, and Lucifer notices his fists are clenched tightly enough his nails are digging into his palms. It takes a lot of effort to unclench them and rest his hands on the desk.

“We might have considered it a coincidence had we not received a demand for territory negotiations at basically the same time as Jack’s call for help,” Michael finally says softly. “It was sheer luck the boy was smart enough to run out of the house and to his friend’s house.”

Hunter’s expression has grown colder and darker the longer Michael spoke. Now, he’s practically glaring, but not at Michael. His gaze rests on the folder Michael hasn’t opened yet. “You want me to permanently remove the person who decided to turn a child into a bargaining chip from the board,” he summarizes. “Only them?”

“We have determined the culprits are two individuals, yes,” Michael agrees. “We are not attempting a hostile takeover.”

“Good,” Hunter says dryly. “Because that is not the kind of job which I would involve myself in. That is what your own men and women are for.”

“Of course,” Michael nods. He taps the folder with one finger, and Lucifer raises an eyebrow. His partner is nervous. That’s new, usually Michael handles these talks with all the emotional upheaval of an iceberg. “Another reason why we decided against employing one of our own for this is that we do not wish to make it an obvious assassination. A bullet to the head might be quick, but in this case, it sends a message we do not wish to send.”

Hunter’s lips stretch into a sharp smile. “You want subtlety, but not the kind that is entirely undetectable. Very well, Michael Milton, Lucifer Alighieri. I accept.”

Lucifer swallows down an entirely undignified noise at the way his name rolls off Hunter’s tongue. _Fuck._

Michael looks up from his contemplation of the garden below when Lucifer sets down a glass by his elbow. “Stop fretting, Mike.” His partner’s voice is warm and gentle in a way it never is when they’re in other people’s company. “We made the right decision.”

“I know,” Michael agrees. He picks up the glass and sips it, humming happily when he discovers Lucifer opened a bottle of his favorite wine. The _Pinot Grigio_ has its origins in a tiny vineyard in Italy that is still property of their family. The vines do not yield enough to compete with the big vineyards, but to Michael (and to Lucifer, even though he’ll never admit it) the wine tastes like home. “I wasn’t thinking about that.”

Lucifer settles down next to him on the wide sofa, and the merciless grin on his face is enough to tell Michael his partner knows what he was thinking about.

“I was thinking we should attempt to tempt our Hunter into mixing business with pleasure,” Lucifer purrs. “He looked good dressed in all that black leather, don’t you think?”

Michael’s hold on his glass tightens as his mind replays the image of Hunter striding into his office, all confidence and black, well-fitting leather. “Yes,” he says and winces at how his voice has decided to come out low and husky. Damnit.

“Don’t worry, Mika.” Lucifer is still grinning, but he’s also used Michael’s distraction to move closer on the sofa. His arm wraps around Michael and pulls him in close against his side. Michael goes willingly, shivering when his partner’s mouth brushes against his throat, warm and a little rough from the shadow of a beard Lucifer is sporting in the evenings. “I’m not jealous he caught your eye. He caught mine, too. And I know you remember you’re _mine_.”

The last word is punctuated by a gentle bite, and Michael groans and nearly drops his glass. He fumbles with setting it down on the side table, feels Lucifer laugh against his skin as much as he hears it, and then he’s on his back on the sofa, Lucifer kneeling above him.

“What did you think about, Mika?” his lover purrs. His eyes are rapidly darkening as he looks him up and down. “Did you imagine peeling him out of those leathers?”

Michael’s breath hitches at the idea, but he shakes his head a little. Lucifer’s smirk widens, his fingers playing with the buttons of Michael’s shirt. “I didn’t think so,” he murmurs, starting to undo them. “No, that man’s not someone who’d be a meek little conquest. He’d turn the tables on you, pin you against that desk… maybe bend you over it so you can cling to it as he fucks you.”

Shit, shit, _shit_. Lucifer’s words in that low, intimate whisper, paired with the mental image he’s painting… Michael’s cock is rock hard in his pants, and he’s pretty sure he’d be dizzy with how fast his blood abandoned his brain if he were upright. He moans when Lucifer pushes a knee up between his legs. “I’d watch you,” he purrs, tugging Michael’s shirt open. “I’m sure our Hunter wouldn’t mind. I’d watch him wreck you, and you’d still beg for more, wouldn’t you?”

Michael can feel himself blush (wherever his body is taking the blood for that from) but he nods anyway because he would and they both know it. Lucifer grins and rests his warm hand on Michael’s belly. “Maybe we should offer you as additional payment,” he whispers, and Michael does the only thing he can – he grabs Lucifer’s head and pulls him down into a kiss to shut him up.

Adam idly taps a finger against his laptop as he waits for the encryptions to finish loading. He’s not stupid enough to use the free Wi-Fi the hotel offers without any sort of security measure in place, not even if all he did was watch porn.

Doing research on the Milton-Alighieri clan and their newfound enemies calls for a little more than that basic layer, but Adam learned from Sam how to best hide his data trails. He’s only refined his skills and technique since then.

Mr. Milton was careful during their conversation not to use names except for Jack’s. The file he handed Adam after he agreed to accept the contract contains photographs and names along with addresses and workplaces, but he never relies on other people’s intelligence even if it is a relatively simple case of “bullet from a distance”. He has no wish to end his days in a prison cell.

His laptop informs him the encryptions have finished loading, and Adam sets down his bottle of Coke (no alcohol while on the job, not even if he’s relatively safe in a hotel room), takes his booted feet off the table and starts working. He begins with little Jack, the child with heterochromia who was still brave enough to open a door to a stranger after running for his life.

All official and unofficial documentation he can find list Castiel Novak and Kelly Kline as the child’s birth parents, but Jack was born in a clinic that specializes on fertility treatments. This particular clinic also advertises their offer to provide medical treatments for someone who is expecting a child after such treatments. They have abhorrently bad firewalls and are apparently in the habit of keeping medical files for far longer than they should. Adam only glances at the files for Kelly Kline (diagnosis: no physical ailments that could interfere in conceiving a child) and Castiel Novak (diagnosis: infertile, potentially due to cancer treatment during his teenage years). Adam spares a minute to feel sympathy for the man.

There is no documentation for any artificial fertilization for Kelly Kline in the timeframe that would fit with Jack’s birthday. Adam sips his Coke and raises an eyebrow.

Castiel Novak is a cousin to Lucifer Alighieri, as stated by Mr. Milton’s file. Apparently, they must be rather close if Jack was conceived in the traditional way. Adam recalls Mr. Alighieri’s easy smile and the way his suit emphasized his broad shoulders and can’t quite fault Madam Kline.

None of the information he dug up helps him in working out a plan of attack for his targets, but Adam prefers to go into a situation with as much knowledge about all the players on the board as possible. It’s something Dean taught him: always be the person with the most information in the room, you never know when you may need to blackmail a son-of-a-bitch into forgetting he ever saw you.

Mr. Alighieri and Mr. Milton provided him with a full headcount of everyone who holds a position of influence in what may well be on its way to become a rival organization. They marked the people they believe to be responsible for the ploy surrounding little Jack as being a Miss Josie Abaddon and a Mr. Jeffrey Asmodeus. Miss Abaddon and Miss Kline apparently went to the same schools and must have been friends. Adam is able to confirm for himself that Miss Kline was the one to provide bail payments twice in order to release Miss Abaddon from custody. A quick cross-check confirms that the second of those payments was made at a time when Miss Kline and Mr. Novak were already undergoing medical examinations and treatments for their issues with conceiving a child.

Adam grimaces and drains his bottle. A friend who is close enough to pay bail money for is also a friend who would be a confidante for such intimate problems. Either Miss Abaddon knew about the arrangement, made an educated guess, or believes the Milton-Alighieri family will not risk the life of a child no matter which of their members fathered the child.

Both Abaddon and Asmodeus are the proud owners of rap sheets that start in their early teenage years. Robbery, physical assault… charming.

Adam sighs and walks over to the small fridge for another bottle of Coke. He suspects he’s going to need it if he wants to finish working out a plan tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes three days for Adam to give up. Three days of walking or driving around town, hours spent in uncomfortable positions and uncomfortable spaces, and so many cups of coffee he doesn’t even consider counting them. Apparently, while Abaddon and Asmodeus work together well enough, they prefer not to spend too much time in each other’s company. In the whole three days Adam is watching, they are in the same room for a grand total of thirty minutes.

Usually, that would be enough of an opportunity for Adam, but his clients’ request for a subtle message doesn’t allow for a sniper’s nest. He could potentially attempt to infiltrate the building and hope he’s better trained than both of them, but Adam doesn’t like the odds. Both his targets are only in the building during normal office hours, when the building is populated by a lot of other people. Every single one of those other people is a potential witness, and in Adam’s experience, people who work in office spaces tend to notice a new face – either because they consider every new person a possible rival to their own position, or because they consider every new person a possible love interest. (Sam laughs his ass of every time Adam repeats that sentiment and claims it’s not that simple. Adam counters that yes, it really is.)

He will have to go after each target separately, which is not something he prefers. Staying in town after a contract has been fulfilled isn’t the smartest choice, and oftentimes a dead body turning up makes other targets shy and invest in more security – especially when dealing with people who move in the world Asmodeus and Abaddon clearly belong to.

Adam briefly entertains the notion of calling in Dean and Sam but decides against it. He’d never live down the teasing for one, and he really doesn’t want to share this contract. The kind of money Mr. Milton and Mr. Alighieri are willing to hand over is enough to lay low for a year if he’s a little careful with his spending. He hasn’t had time to just _be_ for almost three years now in his mad rush to build up a reputation for himself.

Once he has made sure everything is encrypted again, Adam sends a message to his clients via the chatroom they’d used for their first contact.

_I’ll need to split it up. Make sure the windows are closed._

If this was an ordinary job, he’d just go forward without warning his client. He’s not someone who will ask for permission for every step or explain himself once he’s accepted a contract… but this time, there’s a child involved.

Adam remembers being young and afraid. He’s not going to do that to a kid if he can help it.

Miss Josie Abaddon’s house screams _money_ , too. In Adam’s humble opinion, though, it does it with far less grace than Mr. Alighieri’s and Mr. Milton’s house. That one is old and obviously well-kept, with a certain air of dignity and a hint of Old World charm. Adam could almost imagine it in the roaring twenties, glittering with lights and jewelry and alive with some fancy party or other.

This one is Modern, and it earns that capital m. An array of boxes in concrete, steel and glass that fits into the neighborhood about as well as a whore in a convent. (That’s Dean’s commentary in the back of his head. Thank you for your crazy analogies, big brother.) It doesn’t get better with repeated exposure, either. From where he’s crouching in the shadows between garden hedges, Adam watches the lights in the house go out one by one and briefly entertains the notion of just blowing the ugly thing to kingdom come. The neighbors would probably thank him. (well, maybe not for the smoking crater and the debris in their carefully maintained gardens, but for the removal of the eyesore that is that house.)

This is his fourth night in the neighborhood, and he still hasn’t seen any sort of security that goes beyond the electronic system for the house. Either Miss Abaddon is _that good_ (unlikely), her security doesn’t leave the house ever (highly unlikely) or she has that much faith in modern electronics. Going by how her house looks and the driving computer that is her car, Adam’s money is on option number three.

The faint light coming from one of the bedroom windows winks out. Adam doesn’t tense in preparation. He remains in place, patient and almost invisible, waiting. This is his least favorite part of a job, the endless hours spent waiting until he can pounce. It’s necessary, almost the most important skill to master, but it’s also mind-numbing and requires all his discipline to keep his thoughts from wandering.

His inner clock tells him two hours have passed since the light went out. The entire neighborhood is silent, except for trees rustling in the wind. The cars going by on the main road are just audible here. Nothing moves – nothing, except Adam.

The security cameras have a single blind spot on the far side of the street, one that’s barely big enough to stand in. It wouldn’t be enough to climb the ugly concrete wall surrounding the house, but Adam doesn’t need it to be. He just needs to be able to pull out the smartphone and hack his way into the Wi-Fi connection (and who the fuck was stupid enough to set the whole thing up with a wireless connection that’s so bloody easy to hack it’s not even worth the encryption? Fucking idiots, the lot of them!). Once he’s done that it’s the easiest thing in the world to take out the cameras, the alarm… Adam thinks on it and cuts the house’s telephone connection, too, because he can.

The concrete wall is just as ugly as the house, but it’s a lot easier to climb over than Abaddon would probably be happy with. Adam pulls himself up, peeks over the top, then drops down into a shadowy garden that’s been landscaped to within an inch of its existence. He stares at the box tree that’s been shaped into a squirrel and blinks once, trying to imagine his brothers’ reactions to that.

He could break a window to get in, or open one from the outside… but that takes time and makes noise, and Adam has a far easier solution. Abaddon and her trust in electronic safety mean there’s a digital key to open the front door, and once one is inside the system and has it convinced one is it’s master… the door opens with a soft _click_ and Adam grins as he stores the smartphone in one his pants’ many pockets and walks into the house.

Inside, it’s just as ugly as on the outside. It’s dark, so Adam isn’t subjected to the full might of Abaddon’s bad taste (or that of her interior designer) but he suppresses a shiver nonetheless. The emptiness of the house is unnerving. There are no personal touches in the rooms he creeps through, just the bland perfection of a showpiece house.

One advantage to concrete over wood is that there are no creaky floorboards, no stair that groans at the wrong moment and gives him away. It allows Adam to cross the rooms much faster than a wooden or a carpeted floor would, and he grins beneath his mask as he glides up the stairs. This is what he enjoys about his job, the adrenaline rush of closing in on a target, the hyperawareness of everything around him as he dances on the edge of success or disaster.

Miss Abaddon’s bedroom door swings open on silent hinges, and Adam ducks into the room, knife in hand – and freezes.

Even in the dim light coming in from outside, the dark stain on the headboard is unmistakable, as is the smell. Death has a very particular smell that Adam is quite familiar with, and it has visited this room already.

Josie Abaddon is dead, but it’s pretty obvious it wasn’t a suicide.

The biggest hint is the man with the gun still aimed at Abaddon, the man who is staring at Adam with just as much shocked surprise as Adam stares at him.

Instinct takes over. Adam ducks back into the cover of the hallway, walks backwards a few steps until he finds the next corner he can slip around. Then he turns and runs, as fast as he can without making noise. There’s another staircase going down at the end of this hallway, one that will deposit him closer to the back door and the garage. He needs to get out of this house and fast, because he recognized the shape of the man in Abaddon’s bedroom, the way he tilted his head just a bit.

Fergus “Crowley” MacLeod doesn’t leave witnesses behind.

Adam hurries past a window, makes a split-second decision and backtracks. He caught sight of that damn squirrel through the glass, and the window can be opened. Far easier than to hope he can open both back door and garage before he’s caught, and the short drop from the window to the ground outside is child’s play.

Adam pauses just a second once he’s outside, holding his breath and ignoring his racing heartbeat to listen for sounds from the inside. He can’t hear anything, but that means nothing. Crowley is good, too.

Adam races across the lawn, prepared for the bite of a bullet between his shoulders the entire way. He hurls himself over the wall and doesn’t bother returning to the street. There’s a small copse of trees not far from the houses, not even big enough to call a wood, but it’s big enough to disappear in, and it will spit him out closer to where he parked his motorcycle. The machine starts with a low purr and a familiar thrum beneath him, and Adam breathes a sigh of relief as he drives away from the neighborhood.

Josie Abaddon is dead, and it wasn’t Adam who killed her.

Relief gives way to cold fury. He doesn’t appreciate being lied to, and this is a harsh reminder of why Adam usually disappears the second he sniffs out a lie a client told him. He should’ve really known better – people who have a whole bloody _person_ build up for use as a damn puppet will probably lie about other things, too. They’re obviously not above using a kid to try and compromise Adam’s reactions. He doesn’t believe it was a coincidence that Jack opened that door for him, not anymore.

No compunctions about manipulating everyone they want to achieve their goals. Or about ignoring the code of honor that keeps a world like theirs under control.

Adam snarls behind his helmet, his hands tightening on the handlebars. He doesn’t know if Crowley was hired before him or after him, but he doesn’t care. It’s one of the things you just don’t _do_ , setting two assassins up against each other. If they’d thought he took too long, they should’ve bloody well _contacted_ him and told him so!

Well, it’s not too late to re-teach that lesson before he disappears. Adam points his motorcycle into the direction of a house that speaks of old money, and lacking morals. He went into this night prepared for a fight and a kill and a little blood, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get one or two of those.


	3. Chapter 3

Michael jerks awake to a heavy weight on his chest and arms, and something cold against his throat.

Their bedroom is dark, but they didn’t pull the blinds closed before going to bed, and the lights from the garden illuminate the room well enough for him to be able to see the dark-clad shape above him.

There’s no mistaking that man for Lucifer, and not just because Lucifer wouldn’t kneel on his wrists and hold a blade to his throat – and because Lucifer is standing in the doorway to the en-suite. Michael can turn his head just enough to see him, pale in the darkness, both hands raised with his palms facing them. Michael swallows as he sees the reason why – the gun held steady in one gloved hand.

“What the fuck,” he gasps out, unable to really breathe with the weight on his chest.

“Exactly my question,” the man kneeling on him snarls, and Michael recognizes that voice.

“ _Hunter_?” Apparently, so did Lucifer. “What the hell is this supposed to mean?”

“I don’t appreciate being _lied_ to,” Hunter snarls, glancing down at Michael. His eyes are the only thing visible in his face, nose and mouth and hair hidden by dark fabric. They are narrowed in anger. “I especially don’t appreciate finding out there’s another assassin on the contract I didn’t know about before we came face-to-face over a dead target.”

Michael blinks, feeling sluggish with sleep and the lack of oxygen. His brain, confused by his body insisting it likes being pinned in place (not _now_ , body!) and his instincts screaming at him to get away, needs a moment to work out what, exactly, Hunter implied with that statement.

“We didn’t hire anyone else,” Lucifer says, and his voice is outwardly calm. Michael knows him, though. He can hear the tension, the fear Lucifer won’t allow to show on his face. It drives home that there’s what feels like a very sharp blade at his throat, and if the gun in Hunter’s hand isn’t loaded, Michael will eat his pillow. “Really, Hunter. We’re not some idiot criminal who stepped into our world _yesterday_. We’ve been doing this for almost fifteen years now.”

“Explains why you are so adept at lying,” Hunter growls. The blade against Michael’s throat doesn’t budge an inch. “I recognized Miss Abaddon’s killer, Alighieri. They’re fucking expensive. Not many who can afford that.”

“We don’t hire second-best, Hunter.” Lucifer’s voice is still calm, but the strain is a little more audible now. Michael tries to move his hands and winces when Hunter shifts just a little, digging his knee in further. “And we didn’t tell a single lie except for not using our real names at the very start. We told you our reasons, we gave you our home address, we met with you in person.”

The threat of the blade at his throat lessens just a little, the cold metal not quite as close to his skin. Michael swallows and dares to speak.

“Abaddon pissed of several wealthy people.”

Hunter’s eyes flicker down to him. “Did she, now.”

“Mike probably has a list,” Lucifer agrees. “Hunter, please. I’d be willing to bet a lot on you having fact-checked our whole story. We didn’t tell you any lies there. I could’ve easily denied being Jack’s father, make him Cas’ kid in truth. Not many people know he isn’t, by the way.”

Michael can feel the tension in the body above him lessen a little. The weight on his chest becomes just a little less, allowing him to breathe easier. He sucks in two greedy breaths and thinks he can speak.

“You know who we are,” suck in another breath, “do you think if we were in the habit of fucking over the people we enter into contracts with that wouldn’t be common knowledge by now?”

Hunter blinks down at him for a long moment before he sighs and flips the blade up and away from Michael’s throat. “Very good points,” he agrees, and his voice has lost some of its sharpness. “Well. This is mildly embarrassing.”

Lucifer snorts, and that’s amusement hiding relief. Michael turns his head to look at his partner, who has crossed his arms in front of his chest and is staring at Hunter with a raised eyebrow. “Embarrassing for whom, Hunter? I didn’t notice you were in the room. Michael didn’t even wake up until you had your knife at his neck.”

The assassin on top of him huffs out an amused breath and lowers his gun. Michael can breathe easier again, though this time that has nothing to do with weight on his chest. “Should I apologize for this or should we just pretend it never happened?”

“If you get off my wrists, that’s more than enough,” Michael decides to say. He’s then treated to the sight of Hunter carefully lifting his weight off Michael’s wrists, but the man stays kneeling above him. His cock thinks that’s an excellent idea, and Michael’s poor brain gives up.

“You know, except for the part where I thought you’d cut my throat for a second there, that was a pretty sexy way to wake up.”

He refuses to blush when both the assassin and his partner turn wide-eyed stares at him.

All Adam can do for a long moment is stare at the man he’s still more or less pinning to the bed. He expected a lot, but not _that_.

Lucifer makes a choked sound that Adam might call a laugh. “Mike, we really need to work on your flirting.”

Adam looks at Lucifer, then back at Michael… oh. _Oh_. He probably should have wondered why exactly he’d found both of them in one bedroom, but he’d been so furious earlier that thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

The bed is big enough for two, and obviously also used by two people. The sheets and pillow on the currently unoccupied side are rumpled, and Adam can make out the shape of a phone and what might be a book on the nightstand.

“Do better then,” Michael counters, and the grin is audible in his voice. Adam blinks again, feeling out of his depth. He’d hoped he could just leave, disappear into the night and see how Asmodeus will react to tonight’s death before he decides how to approach that problem. He expected to be kicked out after this, or at the very least to be escorted out and told to not return in person.

He utterly wasn’t prepared for flirting – if that is what Michael is doing, because Lucifer is right. Michael needs to work on his lines. (And when did he start to refer to them by first name in his own mind?)

“I will have to, apparently,” Lucifer drawls. Adam looks up again and watches as the man walks closer. “Though I think it’s less flirting and more seducing that’s required here. We already have him in our bed, after all.”

What the entire _fuck_.

“Time for more honesty then.” Lucifer comes to a stop next to the bed. “Can I switch on a lamp, Hunter? I’d like to see more than a vague shadow of you.”

Adam nods. “Sure,” he agrees and realizes he’s still wearing his whole “uniform” down to his hat and gloves. Suddenly, what is usually a comfort and familiar protection feels too stifling and he has to reach up and pull off the hat, pull down the fabric that covers his mouth and nose.

“There he is,” Michael murmurs. Now that he’s been clued in on the fact that apparently, the man has an interest in him, Adam imagines he can hear the appreciation in the words, and he has to fight down a blush.

He’s _not_ a seventeen year old virgin, for heaven’s sake!

A soft _click_ followed by low light tells him Lucifer did switch on his bedside lamp. Adam blinks several times to allow his eyes to adjust after spending so much time in the dark. He still feels out of his depth, unsettled. He’s never had a client express an interest in him that went beyond his job before.

He’s still kneeling above Michael. Adam fights that blush down again and shifts his weight in preparation to at least sit down at the foot of the bed… and a hand comes to rest on his leg, just above his knee. Adam doesn’t flinch, but it’s close.

“It’s okay,” Michael tells him. “I don’t mind.”

Adam takes a deep breath. “I don’t mix business and pleasure,” he says. “That’s a recipe for disaster, and I’m not that unprofessional.”

“If one were to be very precise, we’re not _business_ ,” Lucifer drawls. He chuckles when Adam looks at him, one eyebrow raised to express his disbelief. “We aren’t. _Business_ would be Asmodeus, or Abaddon. We’re…”

“Clients,” Adam says dryly. “Last time I checked, Alighieri, that _is_ business.”

Lucifer sighs. “Damn, we picked a smart one.”

“Of course we did,” Michael agrees. That hand is still resting on Adam’s leg. “And because he’s a smart one, he’ll see that we’re not the kind of business that comes back to bite you if mixed with pleasure. Well, unless biting is asked for,” he adds which has Adam swallow a laugh.

The bed dips a little when Lucifer climbs in, settling on his knees next to them. “We’ve talked about it,” he murmurs, and something in his expression has Adam stop before he can once again tell them that he really doesn’t mix business with pleasure. “We had planned to wait until our… transaction was completed so you wouldn’t have to go against that principle of yours. We’d still wait if you insist, but fuck, Hunter, you’re _hot_. Mike’s the subby bastard in this relationship but he’s damn right.”

Adam glances down at Michael again, who has blushed just a bit but holds his gaze with a calm expression. “I meant it, too,” he murmurs. “We’re not looking for a relationship, Hunter. We’re not planning to use sex or emotions to put a leash on you or something equally stupid.”

“Just a bit of fun,” Lucifer adds. “Just as long as we all want to.”

Adam considers that for a moment, allowing his gaze to drift over Lucifer, then Michael. They’re both watching him now but aren’t making any more attempts to convince him. It makes him think they’d respect his decision even if he said no, got up and walked away. Adam lets that thought grow further, imagines himself doing exactly that. Get up, walk out of the room, out of the house. Return to his impersonal hotel room, his cold and lonely bed. He hasn’t taken anyone to bed for months, too little time between jobs to indulge.

Usually, when he’s being flirted with his potential partners have no idea what he does for a living. They see a young man with good manners and that’s what they get, a gentle lover who puts their needs and pleasure first. He hasn’t truly let go with a lover in forever, not since parting ways with his last boyfriend.

Michael more than hinted that he enjoyed the blade at his throat (after he was relatively certain Adam wouldn’t kill him, at least) and called it a sexy way to wake up. Lucifer didn’t act like that was out of the ordinary, and he called Michael the subby bastard in the relationship.

Adam bites his lower lip, takes in the broad shoulders, the muscled upper bodies. It’s a decision that goes against his strict separation of Adam the man and Hunter the assassin… but maybe he can be both with them.

“My name is Adam,” he tells them softly, watches as Michael’s eyes widen. “I’m not the Hunter for this. Just Adam.”

The hand on his leg grips him tighter, and Adam allows the shiver of anticipation to run through his body.

Lucifer watches the shiver run through Hunt- through _Adam’s_ body and licks his lips. “Can I touch you?”

Adam nods, turning his head to look at him. Those eyes are warm now, no longer chips of ice but still so, so blue. “Might want to be careful though,” he warns with a small grin. “I’m still armed.”

“I know my way around a weapon,” Lucifer purrs, grinning. He’s pretty sure they’re talking real weapons along with metaphors. Adam hid the knife that was at Mike’s throat somewhere on his person again before Lucifer switched on the lamp, but he’s still holding the gun in a loose grip. Lucifer makes an inviting gesture to the nightstand. “Don’t want that to go off by accident.”

“My gun never goes off by accident,” Adam informs him, and yep, that’s the flirting via horrible metaphors.

“I sure hope not,” Mike agrees, and when Lucifer turns to look his hand is already stroking up and down Adam’s leg. “Get rid of the damn things, guys.”

Adam’s still looking at Lucifer. “You forgot to mention he’s a _bossy_ subby bastard.”

Lucifer laughs and nods. “That he is, but only until you have him where he wants to be. Then it’s all pleas and pretty sounds.”

Mike blushes harder but doesn’t deny it, and there’s an interested gleam in Adam’s eyes now. He sits up and hands Lucifer first the gun, then his knife. When his hands go to the hidden zipper of his jacket, Mike moves. Lucifer smiles, watching as his partner brushes Adam’s hands aside, waits for a second to give Adam the option of protesting, then slowly pulls the zipper down. His lover likes peeling people out of their clothes.

Lucifer takes the jacket once it’s pushed off Adam’s shoulders. He guesses there are more weapons hidden within and carefully deposits it beside the nightstand before returning to their bed. Adam’s still kneeling astride Michael, looking down at him with an expression somewhere between gentle and wanting. He’s wearing a dark t-shirt that’s already been pushed up halfway to his chest by Michael’s hands, revealing pale skin beneath. Lucifer’s hands itch to touch, too, so he moves closer and runs a hand up Adam’s arm.

“Anything we shouldn’t do?” he murmurs, watching goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch. Adam hums.

“No holding me down,” he says. “Grabbing my wrists is okay, just don’t pin me. Nothing too kinky for the first time, either.”

“No,” Mike agrees. His hands push the t-shirt higher still, then slip beneath. Lucifer can feel the shiver this time. “Nothing kinkier than me getting fucked.”

“Demanding,” Adam drawls, but he’s smirking, and his posture is relaxing a little. “Do you always get what you want then, Michael?”

“Usually,” Michael smirks back. Lucifer guesses he’s reached a nipple, because Adam twitches a little. He wants to see, so he gently tugs on the fabric and strokes it up even further. The ease with which Adam raises both arms and allows him to strip it off is intoxicating, and then their new third is half-naked for them. Lucifer kneels behind him, strokes his hands down to rest on his hips over belt and pants.

“He’s a spoiled brat,” he murmurs, watching Michael trace Adam’s muscles. The man is lean and wiry in the way athletes are. “But then, so am I. And I plan to spoil you rotten, too, for as long as you’re ours.”

The soft sound Adam makes _could_ be a sigh, or a quiet moan. Lucifer chuckles and lightly tugs Adam back against him until they’re pressed close from thighs to shoulders.


	4. Chapter 4

Lucifer is warm against his back, and Adam marvels at how good it feels to have him there, feel the weight of his hands on his hips. Michael’s hands on his chest and belly are gentle, curious in their touch, but oh sweet Heaven the man seems to make a map of what makes Adam twitch and has his breath come a little faster.

“He’s good at that,” Lucifer purrs into his ear, and that voice should be forbidden. “If you let him, he’ll do that for hours and then complain how long you made him wait.”

Michael grins up at them. “Works like a charm every time.” His fingers close around a nipple and tug, and Adam bites back a curse as his cock twitches.

“Let’s get him out of these,” Lucifer tugs on a belt loop in emphasis. Michael nods and sits up, and Adam should probably not enjoy being caught between them as much as he does. Hands at his waist undo belt and buttons and zippers, and he allows them to manhandle him until they can strip the remaining clothes (and his boots) off of him. He smirks a little when Michael glances down and sucks in a sharp breath. _That_ is a rather familiar reaction.

“Meet your approval?”

“Hell yes,” Michael agrees. He’s still wearing that blush over his cheeks, but it’s obvious that’s excitement, not shame. He runs teasing fingers along Adam’s cock, all but purring with eagerness. “I’ll probably feel that tomorrow morning.”

“You love that,” Lucifer says from behind Adam, sounding as if he’s grinning again. “And your manners are lacking, Mike.”

That, and the gentle hand on his jaw are all the warning Adam receives before he’s being kissed. This is not one of those first-time kisses, all awkward angles and bumping noses and teeth in the way. This feels as if they’ve done it a hundred times, a thousand times – the smooth tilt of his head, a warm glide of lips on lips, a teasing tongue tempting him into opening up for a deeper exploration. Adam moans and allows it, kisses back with equal hunger. When Lucifer tries to dominate the kiss, Adam retaliates by biting his lower lip just hard enough to hurt and earns a yelp. Lucifer draws back with a gasp, breaking the kiss. His eyes are a little darker and a lot wilder than before. Adam smirks at him. “You did say you wanted all of me,” he reminds his new lover. “I’m a toppy bastard.”

Lucifer licks the bitten spot and grins. “We’re going to have fun,” he promises before allowing Adam to turn back to Michael, who was busy throwing off the blanket and is just now tossing his sleep pants to the side. Michael kisses him, too, a lot softer than Lucifer did. He yields control to Adam with a happy little purr. He also easily goes when Adam rests both hands on his shoulders and pushes him back down onto the bed – and Lucifer helps, which means Adam ends up _between_ Michael’s legs this time instead of straddling him. Michael moans into their kiss and arches up into him, and Adam allows that part he’s always holding back with casual partners to react. He uses his body to pin Michael, hold him in place, and earns a full-body shudder and another moan, Michael breaking their kiss to arch his head back and pant for breath.

“Gorgeous,” Adam purrs. He nips at Michael’s jaw, then works his way down. Michael’s hands fly up to grab at his hair as he nips and kisses and sucks, but don’t try to pull him one way or the other. Adam lingers over a nipple as a reward, feeling the strong body beneath him tremble and strain against his hold when he plays with the sensitive nub. Michael made it pretty clear what he wants, but Adam’s not going to miss an opportunity to be himself with a lover. He takes his time, smirking every time he feels Michael’s erection twitch against his hip. He only lets up when Michael gasps out a hoarse “please!”.

“Please what?” he asks with a grin, taking in the sight beneath him. His lips and teeth left red marks on Michael’s skin, and the other man must’ve bitten his own lip at some point because it’s wet and plump with it. Green eyes blink up at him.

“Please, fuck me,” Michael clarifies, shifting until he manages to spread his legs wider. He moans when that has Adam sink down more firmly against him.

“Oh, we’re needy.” Lucifer crawls up beside them, grinning. “He doesn’t beg that easily, not usually.”

“Or maybe I’m just that good.” Adam grins at Lucifer’s laugh. “Lube?”

Lucifer holds up the bottle. “Let me help you with that,” he offers. “Else you’ll be on your back and he’ll be on top of you before you know it.”

Adam holds out his hand. “Let me guess, you tie him down.”

Michael moans and shivers beneath him, and Adam smirks. Lucifer grins and pours a handful of lube before slicking Adam’s fingers up. There’s a strange kind of intimacy to the touch, one that has Adam shiver, too. “Sure I do,” he agrees.

“Good to know.” Adam shifts his weight a little and reaches down, running wet fingertips between Michael’s cheeks. Michael hisses at the cool lube, then moans again when Adam puts gentle pressure on his entrance. A finger slides in easily, and Adam raises an eyebrow. “Are we that eager, or did we get fucked already tonight?”

This time, it’s a blush that spreads over Michael’s throat and face. He doesn’t look away from Adam’s gaze, doesn’t try to hide – but he blushes bright red. Lucifer laughs.

“Mika wore a pretty toy for me today,” he purrs, “a big one. I’m not surprised he’s still open from that.”

Stars above, these two are kinky. Adam’s cock approves, twitching against Michael’s hip. “We _are_ going to have fun,” he purrs, pushing in with two fingers. Michael whines and tries to push his hips down to make him go faster, and Adam nips at his jaw sharply. “My pace, pretty one.”

Michael moans and trembles, but he holds still as Adam slowly thrusts two fingers in and out, enjoying the glide and the tight heat. It’s been way too long since he did this, and his patience is running out fast. “How much does he need?”

Lucifer grins. “For what you’re packing? Go up to three. Mika likes a little bite with his pleasure.”

Adam nods and turns his head to distract himself with a kiss. Michael opens up for it greedily, and it works as a distraction until Adam finds his prostate and rubs a firm caress over the gland. Michael shouts into their kiss and his hole clenches around Adam’s fingers. Adam groans and pulls them free to add another, going slowly as he pushes in again and starts to work Michael open enough to take him. Michael’s trembling and straining against his hold in a way that would make him draw back with every other partner, reign himself back in so as to not frighten them off – but Michael and Lucifer _know_ who he is. He doesn’t have to hold back, can enjoy the feeling of that strong body beneath his own.

Lucifer’s hand on his forearm has him break the kiss and look up, and Lucifer must like what he sees because he groans and reaches down to cup his own erection through his pants. “Fuck, you’re hot. He’s ready, Adam.”

Adam hums and spreads his fingers as deep inside Michael as he can go, listens to the deep moan Michael gives him. “Condoms?”

Michael whines and Lucifer chuckles. “We’re clean,” he promises. “Been a while since we invited anyone to play.”

Adam shivers at the prospect of sinking himself into Michael without latex between them. “Gonna trust my word that I’m clean, too?”

“Trusting that you’re too smart to risk catching anything, and too smart not to get tested regularly.” Lucifer grins at him. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re not,” Adam has to admit. He gently pulls his fingers free, to Michael’s low whine. “Want to join us?”

Lucifer smiles, slow and hungry. “Oh, yes. Later. For now, I’ll settle with groping you.” He pours more lube into his palm and reaches between them, wrapping his hand around Adam’s erection. Adam groans and bucks into the grip once before he manages to hold still and let Lucifer cover him in lube.

Michael _melts_ beneath him as soon as Adam pushes his cock into him. He blinks dark eyes up at him and wraps both legs around Adam’s waist, clinging. “Fuuuck.”

“Do you like that, Mika?” Lucifer purrs. Adam can almost feel the intensity of his gaze on them. “Does it feel good to be so full of someone else?”

“Yes,” Michael whispers, licks his lips. “Feels fuckin’ awesome.”

“You do,” Adam agrees, rocking a little to feel the muscles cling to him. “Let’s see if we can’t top awesome, pretty one.” He starts to move, sets up a rhythm that’s just slow enough to let him feel the glide in and out, but hard enough to rock Michael beneath him. His partner’s eyes go wide, and his mouth forms a small “Oh!” before his head falls back and he groans on the third thrust in. His hole clenches again and Adam smirks. “Found it.”

Lucifer wriggles out of his sleep pants, then wraps his hand around his cock with a low moan of relief. His gaze doesn’t move from Michael and Adam, who’s settled into a pace that’s somewhere between fast and hard and just slow enough to make Michael writhe and mewl. The assassin’s hands are alternately caressing his partner and holding him down, and Lucifer isn’t sure he’s going to last long enough to fuck him, too. Watching them is too hot – and then Adam starts talking, a low murmur of filth into Michael’s ear, just loud enough Lucifer can hear it, too.

“You love this, don’t you? Being pinned and full of cock… such a greedy slut. It’s even better if it’s not Lucifer, isn’t it?”

Michael moans and strains against Adam’s hold, but doesn’t get far. Adam’s grin is all teeth as he pins him down again. Lucifer strokes a little faster, biting his lip to keep silent and not distract them.

“You’re not going anywhere until I’m done with you,” Adam breathes. Michael whines, but Lucifer can see his cock jump and leak onto his belly. “You’ll be a good little slut and let me fuck you full of my cum. Then we’ll see about letting you move. Maybe we’ll get you up on your knees for Lucifer, hmm?”

Fuck, the man has good ideas. Lucifer lightly squeezes the base of his dick and stops stroking, reaching up with his free hand to play with a nipple instead. The pleasure isn’t as sharp as stroking his cock, but enough to take the edge off.

Michael’s been reduced to moans and whimpers by now, clinging to Adam. Adam’s rhythm has gone a little ragged, his thrusts a little faster. Lucifer knows exactly how good Michael feels when he’s this far gone, and he can guess Adam won’t last much longer. They hadn’t spoken about letting Michael come… but Adam answers that question when Michael reaches for his cock. He easily catches the hand and pins it to the mattress, grinning at Michael’s protesting whine. “You can come once you’re on Lucifer’s cock,” he purrs, and picks up his pace. Lucifer can tell he’s close from the way his expression changes, the slight jerkiness to his movements – and the deep groan that’s echoed by Michael.

His partner loves being filled, feeling the evidence of his lovers’ orgasms.

Adam thrusts a few times more before sinking down onto Michael with a harsh exhale, looking wrecked. He lets go of Michael’s hand and tilts his head for a gentle kiss, then looks at Lucifer. “C’mere,” he murmurs. “Your turn.”

Lucifer crawls closer, watching as Adam sits up again and strokes gentling hands along Michael’s chest as he pulls out. Michael still whines protest. Lucifer chuckles and taps his hip. “Up, Mika,” he orders gently. “You know how you like it.”

Michael scrambles onto his hands and knees, his ass up in the air. Lucifer groans as the position allows him a look at his partner’s hole, reddened and glistening wet with lube and Adam’s cum clinging to the skin. “Pretty,” he praises, rubbing a thumb over the opening. Michael groans and tries to push onto the thumb, and Lucifer decides to take pity on him. His cock is slick from his own touches, and Michael’s hole is drenched, so he lines up and pushes in with a moan. Michael shouts and trembles, and Lucifer grits his teeth, grabs his partner’s hips, and starts to move.

It doesn’t take too long until Michael claws at the sheets with a yell and comes, his hole clenching around Lucifer as he spills onto the sheets. Lucifer hisses out a curse and allows himself to let go, the sight of Michael beneath him overlaid in his mind with the sight of Michael beneath Adam.

They curl up around each other, Michael tucked between them. Adam watches Lucifer stroke his partner’s hair, feels the warm skin beneath his hand and tries to decide if this decision was the best or the worst he’s made in quite a while. He falls asleep before he can make up his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

It doesn’t take much to tempt Adam into staying for breakfast. (Not much, in this case, means about half an hour of making out like teenagers. It’s a nice way of waking up in an unfamiliar bed.)

Breakfast apparently is something that happens in the kitchen, so Adam dresses (minus the hat and bandana he used last night) and follows his new… lovers? Yes, that word seems to fit. He follows his new lovers into what turns out to be a spacious kitchen in the rear of the house and watches as two of the wealthiest men of the state (and possibly the most powerful) throw together a quick breakfast.

He’s just halfway through the cup of coffee Michael handed him when the door opens and Jack comes into the room. The child stops abruptly about halfway to where Lucifer is, staring at Adam with wide eyes in a way he didn’t when he opened the door for him. Adam smiles at him while cursing internally.

“Good morning,” he offers. “I’m Adam.”

Big eyes look him up and down before Jack holds out a careful hand. “Jack,” he says softly. “Good morning. Are you a friend of my uncles?”

“He is,” Michael says calmly, walking up with another, smaller mug in his hand. He holds it out for Jack to take. Adam can smell the sweet scent of hot chocolate as Jack accepts the mug. “It got a little past our bedtime yesterday, so Adam slept here.”

Jack seems to accept that after thinking about it for a moment. He carefully puts his mug down onto the table before he climbs into a chair next to Adam. “Your clothes are pretty boring,” he states. “Don’t you like color?”

This time, the smile comes easier. “I was in the mood for boring yesterday,” Adam tells the boy. “Today I’m in the mood for color, but I didn’t bring spare clothes.”

“Your Dad needs to pack your bag better,” Jack declares with a firm nod. “Spare clothes are important. Fruit loops!”

The last part is for the bowl of cereal Lucifer placed in front of Jack. Adam and his clothes forgotten in favor of breakfast, Jack picks up his spoon and starts to eat. Adam glances up to see the tight line around Lucifer’s eyes for a second before the other man regains control of his facial expressions.

“Fruit loops for Jack, scrambled eggs and veggies for the grown-ups,” Michael comments. Adam watches them set the table and wonders why he feels so comfortable in their presence, why Jack chasing his fruit loops through the milk next to him isn’t annoying but something to smile over.

He probably needs more coffee.

After breakfast, Jack skips off with a shouted “bye!”. Adam chuckles and gets up, too, thinking about the best route to take back to his hotel room.

Preferably one that is the farthest from Abaddon’s neighborhood as possible.

“Got plans for tonight?” Lucifer asks, stacking plates. Adam blinks, shaken from his thoughts.

“…no? Not yet, anyway. I’ll need to do a little recon regarding our second problem,” Adam says. “Also probably best to lay low for a few days, let the police calm down.”

Michael snorts. “They’ll calm down within a few days,” he prophecies. “They always do.”

“We’d like to… see you again tonight,” Lucifer continues. He grins, quick and charming. “Maybe past your bedtime again?”

Adam finds himself smiling. “I’m sure that can be arranged,” he agrees.

The hotel room feels even colder and emptier when Adam walks in two hours later, having made absolutely sure nobody followed him from the house. Adam glances around, at the backpack holding his clothes and the tools of his trade, at his laptop, at the perfectly made bed. It looks sterile and uninviting today.

Adam gives himself a rough shake and goes to take a shower. He needs to stop moping and start working.

Predictably, the death of one Miss Josie Abaddon is front-page news today. Adam reads several articles from several sources (the yellow press ones make him want to bash his head against the desk, it would probably be less painful) and comes to the conclusion that while police is suspecting Miss Abaddon was involved with organized crime, they have no idea this wasn’t a vengeful ex-lover. He refrains from hacking into their system for now, because he _knows_ they won’t have most of what’s interesting for him yet. Despite the many forensics crime shows claiming otherwise, lab work takes time.

Adam decides to go out for lunch when his stomach growls at him, both to stretch his legs, escape the bland room for a while, and maybe he’ll be able to overhear some gossip. Later, he won’t be able to say if he anticipated finding himself in company as soon as he sits down at a free table with his burger and fries or not.

“Hunter,” the other man greets quietly. Today, he’s dressed in a well-fitting suit with a bright red shirt that should look horrible and instead pulls off stylish. Adam raises an eyebrow and leans back, taking in all of him.

“Crowley,” he returns the greeting. “Didn’t think you’d stick around.”

“I was curious.” Crowley steals a fry. “Who did our mutual friend piss of badly enough they’d send the best after them?”

Adam doesn’t remark on the attempt at flattery. “I’m not breaking code and talking, Crowley.” He raises an eyebrow. “Did you think me that stupid?”

Crowley laughs and shakes his head. “No,” he admits. “Maybe I hoped, but no. You’re too well-educated to slip like that. Do I have to worry about anything?”

Adam snorts. “I’m also not stupid enough to try and claim your work as mine,” he tells the man. “My Mom raised me better than that. Now can I eat in peace? I had a trying night.”

Crowley snorts. “Good hunting then.” He walks away unhurriedly, pausing to flirt with the waiter of the restaurant next door. Adam shakes his head and picks up his burger. At least he won’t have to worry about Crowley coming after him.

It’s never nice to see your suspicions confirmed, Adam muses. Upon hearing about Abaddon’s sudden demise in her own bed, Asmodeus disappeared with all due haste. There’s also far too much police on the streets for him to sneak around. Adam shrugs, knowing the man will be back soon enough if he values the foothold he’s gained in the city. He makes a point of driving just careful enough and just reckless enough not to raise suspicion with the patrol officers when he finally gives in to his own impatience and drives out to the Milton-Alighieri residence. He tries telling himself he’s not excited about the prospect of spending another night with Lucifer and Michael, but it doesn’t really work. The idea of being with someone who not only knows what he can do, but _enjoys_ playing with it… he has to remind himself there is a speed limit and he should make sure to stick to it.

Lucifer looks up from the contract he was reading when the doorbell chimes. “Think that’s our Hunter?”

Michael nods, but doesn’t look up from his laptop. “I need to finish this,” he murmurs distractedly. Lucifer grins and pushes the contract away.

“Finish your work. We’ll probably be in the living room.” He’s familiar with Michael like this and knows his partner will probably remember where to find him after he’s resurfaced.

It is, indeed, Adam who’s waiting in front of the door, wearing black leather again. He also has a bag slung over his shoulder. Lucifer ushers him in, weighs the risk and decides _fuck it_ before stepping closer to greet him properly. Adam stiffens for maybe a heartbeat before he laughs against Lucifer’s mouth and kisses back.

“You really like living dangerously, don’t you?” he asks when Lucifer steps back a little, releasing him. “I could’ve reacted badly to that.”

Lucifer is still grinning. “I would’ve been prepared for that. Not all that innocent here, Adam.”

Adam’s gaze flicks down to his hands before it comes back up. “If you say so,” he drawls, looking amused. The look of quiet confidence is incredibly hot, and Lucifer sternly reminds his libido they’re not going to start this in the damn hallway. He’s got better manners than that, there’s a child in the house who doesn’t need to see that, and Adam deserves more than that, too. He nods to the backpack Adam’s got slung over his shoulder.

“Change of clothes?”

Adam nods, his lips twitching. “Jack did have a point.”

He did at that, and Lucifer makes a split-second decision and hopes Michael will be okay with it. “C’mon, let’s drop that off in the bedroom.”

Adam follows him deeper into the house and up to their bedroom despite already knowing perfectly well where it is. Lucifer watches him set down his pack against the wall and wonders.

“How did you know where our bedroom was last night?”

Adam blushes just a little. Lucifer stares. “I didn’t,” the assassin admits, shrugging out of his leather jacket to drape it over his pack. “Finding rooms quickly and quietly is part of my job, Lucifer.”

“You sneaked through the house until you found us,” Lucifer realizes. “And we didn’t hear a thing.”

“Michael probably didn’t,” Adam agrees. “You were awake.”

He was, though Lucifer had thought he’d woken up because his body insisted he use the bathroom. Maybe it was something else, too. “We should probably update the security system,” he muses. Adam snorts and comes to a halt in front of him, resting both palms on Lucifer’s shoulders. The ease with which he touches sends another thrill through Lucifer.

“Please don’t be as fucking stupid as Abaddon was with hers,” he whispers close to Lucifer’s lips. “Or I will come back and paint your living room pink during the night as revenge.”

Lucifer blinks, then starts to laugh.

It was a sunny day, and the back porch still holds enough warmth to be able to sit outside comfortably. Lucifer watches Adam look around and take everything in before coming back to sit down. He smiles when Adam chooses to join him instead of selecting one of the free chairs.

“Did I arrive too early?” he asks, glancing back at the house. “You seem to be missing someone.”

Lucifer snorts and wraps an arm around Adam to pull him closer. Adam goes without protest. “Mike’s still working and was pretty zoned out, we probably won’t see him for another half-hour at least. I’m giving him an hour before we go distract him from his desk.”

“Oh?” Adam smiles up at him in a way that screams both “tease” and, “Danger, Will Robinson!” It’s far hotter than it should be. “And how do you propose we pass that half-hour to an hour, then?”

Lucifer grins, feeling his body stir awake. “Well,” he drawls. “We _could_ talk about what we’ll be having for dinner. Or we could come up with things we want to do… to Mike or each other. Or we could start making out like teenagers and wait for him to come catch us.”

Adam’s smile turns into a smirk, and then he _moves_. Lucifer finds himself with a lapful of warm, willing man and marvels at how fast Adam is. The assassin leans down close enough to kiss him. “Or,” he breathes against Lucifer’s mouth, blue eyes dancing with humor, “we could make out like teenagers _and_ come up with what we’ll do tonight.”

“Awesome plan,” Lucifer agrees. He grabs Adam’s hair, notes the small shiver, and drags him down the last inch or so to kiss him. It’s that shiver, paired with the arousal that having Adam in his lap stirs up, that prompts him into asking the question as soon as he can breathe again. He runs his hands down Adam’s back and pauses when he reaches the leather of his pants. “Can I ask you something first?”

“Sure,” Adam murmurs, shifting a little until he’s really sitting in Lucifer’s lap. That doesn’t help at all.

“Would you let me take you?”

The question hangs between them, blurted out in a single breath. Lucifer tries not to hold his breath now, looking up at Adam. When the assassin hums and sits back a little but doesn’t tense or try to get up, it gets a little easier.

“I’m not really into being dominated,” Adam finally says. “But if you can live without that… yeah, I’d be up for that.”

Lucifer snorts at the pun even as his cock jumps a little. “Up for it, hmm?”

“Perfect opportunity,” Adam grins at him, unrepentant. “But that will have to wait until I’m done with your second problem out there. I need to be in perfect working order for that.”

Lucifer hums and pushes his hands beneath the fabric of Adam’s shirt, finding warm skin. “I can wait,” he purrs.

Walking into his hotel room gets worse every time Adam does it. He berates himself for getting used to waking up with warm bodies next to him, being with people he trusts (even worse, according to his father) in such a short time, but it doesn’t help. He still happily returns to the house every day, and he starts arriving earlier and earlier. Lucifer turns out to be an excellent cook, their internet connection is much better than anything the hotel can claim, and Jack loves having Adam there. The kid is already starting to write, though for now his repertoire just includes the names of himself, his parents, Lucifer, and Michael. He’s working on adding more, and one day Adam finds himself roped into helping and doesn’t even realize hours have gone by until Lucifer steals Jack and informs them dinner is ready.

That night, it’s Michael who snags Adam around the waist and drags him into his lap. Adam goes with a yelp, glaring up at his lover half-heartedly. “What was that for?”

“You had that look on your face that says _I’m thinking about something and I need a distraction_ ,” Michael informs him. “I recognized it from Luci. Thus, distraction.”

Adam smiles and wriggles around until he’s properly in Michael’s lap. “And what did you have in mind for a distraction, then?”

Michael smirks up at him. “Want to go fuck Lucifer over his desk?”

He might be dizzy with how fast his blood rushes to his cock. “Fuck, yes.”

Michael lets Adam lead the way to their shared office space. Lucifer disappeared after dinner with promises to return soon, just one email that still required an answer. That was two hours ago, and Michael’s in the mood for a little revenge after Lucifer and Adam teamed up on him and carried him off to their bedroom a few days ago. Letting Adam precede him just means he gets to watch his ass as the man walks. It’s not something he’s going to get tired of soon, he suspects.

Lucifer looks up from his laptop when they walk in, and immediately winces. “Can I negotiate my way out of this one?”

“No,” Michael informs him, closing the door. He locks it, more for show than anything else. Jack still spends his days with them, but Castiel was released from hospital two days ago. He still needs physical therapy but insisted on returning home with his son. Michael and Lucifer relented and quietly made sure there’s an armed guard. “We’ve already decided you need to be reminded not to let us wait too long, Luci.”

“You heard the boss,” Adam drawls, and there’s a smirk in his voice. “How do you want him, Michael?”

Now that’s an interesting development, Michael muses. His cock twitches in his pants as he considers the options of Adam carrying out his commands. “I did say we were going to fuck him over his desk… facedown,” he decides. Adam gives him a sloppy salute and marches behind the desk. Michael knows Lucifer’s struggle is mostly for show, but the ease with which Adam drags him out of his chair, over to where the big table is free of electronics, clutter and papers is… intriguing. He remembers Adam pinning him down that first night and bites his lower lip against a soft groan.

Lucifer is shoved onto the desktop facedown, his hands behind his back in Adam’s grip. His lovers look at him expectantly, and Michael smirks and walks around to where his own workspace is. One of his drawers yields a pair of handcuffs, the police-grade ones… though this particular pair was custom-made with added velvet to protect the furniture they’ve been tethered to, and the skin of wrists and ankles. Both Michael and Lucifer have a habit of fighting their restraints until they’re well and gone with pleasure.

“Got something for you, Luci,” he purrs, walking back over to where his lovers are with the cuffs dangling from his fingers. Lucifer sees them and groans.

The handcuffs get attached to Lucifer’s wrists, but Adam doesn’t let him go. He transfers his grip to Lucifer’s hip and shoulder instead, holding him in place against the desk. “Maybe we should’ve gotten rid of the shirt first.”

Michael considers that and shrugs. “He can keep it for now. Let’s get rid of his trousers, those _are_ in the way of him getting fucked.”

Between them, they manage to keep a writhing Lucifer pinned and strip him from the waist down, too. Lucifer only stops writhing and wriggling once Adam uses his own knees to spread his legs and rubs a lube-slick finger over his hole. The strangled noise he makes has Michael chuckle.

“Go slowly,” he advises Adam, still pinning their lover to his desk. “It’s been a while since Luci had anything in his hole.”

Adam hums and Michael can tell the moment he pushes a fingertip in because Lucifer trembles in his grip. “I can tell,” the assassin murmurs. “Damn, you’re tight. That’s going to feel amazing.”

Michael watches as Adam takes his time working Lucifer open, murmuring filth into his ears all the while – “there we are, opening up for me so well, you’re such a greedy little slut at heart, aren’t you? I bet you’ll be begging for cock before we’re done here.” – and Lucifer steadily relaxes beneath his hands until his partner is a shivering mess on the desk, trying to push back into Adam’s fingers and gritting his teeth against the begging Adam mentioned. Michael looks down to see his eyes are half-closed in bliss and chuckles. It’s not going to take long now… and right on the heels of that thought, Adam angles his hand a little and pushes in again, and Lucifer’s eyes fly open on a choked moan.

“Found it,” Adam whispers with a smirk. Lucifer makes another strangled noise, his hands curled into fists and tugging at the cuffs in a way that’s utterly uncoordinated. He sucks in a harsh breath on the next push of Adam’s fingers, trying to twist his hips up and back, and Adam surprises Michael again by slapping Lucifer’s ass with his free hand. Lucifer yelps, then moans. Michael swallows a soft groan and makes a mental note to see if Adam is willing to do that to him sometime, too.

“Use your words, pretty slut,” Adam tells their third, stilling his hand. “I’m not going to give you more until you ask for it.”

“Please,” Lucifer gasps out, and Michael looks down to see his cheeks are flushed bright red and his eyes are closed. “Please Adam, need more, please!”

“Better,” Adam decides. He starts to move his hand again, and the groan it pulls out of Lucifer has Michael’s own cock twitch. “Go on, let me hear you.”

Lucifer does, moaning out pleas with each thrust of Adam’s hand as he goes boneless on his desk. Michael uses the opportunity to remove one of his hands from his shoulders to give himself a little friction through his pants. Of course, Adam sees and smirks at him. Michael raises an eyebrow and refuses to blush.

“I think we’re ready here,” Adam finally decides when Lucifer is begging them to “please fuck me, need it want it fill me up please!” in a breathless litany. “Which hole do you want, Mika?”

Even with his cock jumping with arousal, Michael tucks that _Mika_ into a corner of his mind to cherish later. It’s the first time Adam has used the shortened form of his name that Lucifer turned into an endearment. “I’m fine with his mouth,” he tells their lover. “You did all the work opening him up.”

Lucifer groans between them but doesn’t move as Michael releases him to open his pants. He just blinks lust-dark eyes open and watches as Michael gets rid of his clothes, and he opens his mouth eagerly when Michael steps closer to the desk, his hand wrapped around his cock.

“So eager,” Adam purrs. Michael glances up at him and raises an eyebrow. Adam nods, holding up three fingers. He lowers them, one by one, and Michael grins even as he pushes his cock into Lucifer’s mouth at the same time as Adam pushes into his hole. Lucifer moans and trembles between them, sucking greedily. Going by Adam’s curse, his hole is clenching around him just as eagerly.

They settle into a rhythm, Adam pushing in as Michael pulls out, making sure Lucifer has one cock inside all the time. Lucifer is moaning every time he manages to catch his breath, his eyes still closed. He’s trembling between them, utterly lost to his pleasure.

“Can our greedy little slut come like this?” Adam finally asks, sounding a little strained. Michael can sympathize, it’s been way too long since Lucifer sucked his cock. Lucifer mewls around his mouthful, then sucks in a breath when Michael pulls back far enough. “Yes,” he rasps out, then moans when Michael pushes back in. Adam shares a grin with Michael and picks up his pace, earning himself a muffled shout. Michael groans, tightens his grip on Lucifer’s hair and manages a handful more thrusts into his mouth before he’s coming down his throat. Lucifer moans and sucks and swallows, and Adam hisses a curse.

Michael pulls back with a groan when he’s spent, stepping back to sink into one of the chairs meant for visitors. He watches as Lucifer licks his lips and rests his cheek on the desk, his whole body rocking with the strength of Adam’s thrusts. It doesn’t take long until he’s shaking apart on the desk and Adam’s cock, and Michael smirks at the thought that he’ll have to clean his cum off his desk come morning.

Adam bares his teeth and fucks into Lucifer a few times before he groans and yanks Lucifer back against him, hard. Watching him come apart is pretty damn hot, too, and Michael’ spent cock gives a valiant twitch.

Adam pants into Lucifer’s back for a moment before he straightens and pulls out, accompanied by Lucifer’s mournful sigh. He sits down on the floor without a care for the rug and gently tugs their lover into his lap, holding him in his arms. “Shh, I’ve got you.”

Michael abandons his own chair and walks over to sit down next to them, wrapping his own arms around them. Lucifer shivers between them and sighs, and Michael quietly agrees.

Inviting Adam into their bed was a good idea.


	6. Chapter 6

The cops have calmed down to reasonable levels of vigilance days ago. Adam hacked his way into the relevant systems and read up on their reports regarding the death of one Miss Josie Abaddon, amused to find they’re certain it was an ex who killed her. Crowley apparently stabbed her “with too much force, indicating rage”. Smart man, but then again, there’s a reason he’s known as one of the States’ best.

His own plans for Mr. Asmodeus have been finished days ago, too. Even the contingency plans are finished. Asmodeus himself has returned to the city and has taken up his routine as if nothing happened.

Adam is dragging his feet on acting on any of his plans.

He realizes it one afternoon when Jack wriggles out of his arms with an excited shout of “Dad!” and he’s watching Jack run across the lawn, when Castiel hugs his son and waves at Adam before they go back into the house. He’s spent the morning doing nothing but sitting in the shade of the porch, drinking iced tea, reading one of Michael’s books – and reading Jack’s book to him when the boy clambered into his lap and held out the small book at him.

It’s not a welcome realization, and Adam sits and stares at the book without seeing it for several minutes. When did he allow himself to become so entangled in the household that he’s basically an accepted part of it now? When did he allow himself to forget he was here to do a job, and just biding his time until his target was within reach again?

His brothers wouldn’t mock him at this point, they’d question his sanity. They would be right, too. His line of work doesn’t lend itself to indulging in delusions of a happy family life. His father tried to have that, twice, and it exploded in his face both times. Adam, Sam and Dean all bear the mental scars from those explosions.

Adam gently puts the book down on the table and gets up. He doesn’t even need to return to his hotel room to pack – everything that once lived there has migrated to the guest room he only uses as a convenient place to keep his clothes, his laptop and the tools of his trade carefully locked away from curious children. He should’ve checked out of the hotel sooner, he thinks bitterly. At least he could’ve saved the money for a room he hasn’t used in days.

He doesn’t quite announce his intention to go after Asmodeus tonight, but when he shows up to dinner already dressed in the same dark outfit he wore when he held a knife to Michael’s throat he can see Michael and Lucifer understand.

“I’ll come back,” he promises and stops wanting to kick himself over it as soon as he sees the tight line of Michael’s mouth relax, Lucifer’s hand release its white-knuckle grip on the cutlery.

Asmodeus is an arrogant dick, worse than Miss Abaddon was – or rather, in a different kind of way than Miss Abaddon was. Her arrogance was to believe herself untouchable in her house, and possibly to think she was good enough to take on everyone who she might have pissed off.

Mr. Asmodeus is different. He believes himself rich enough to be able to grease his way out of every situation he might possibly find himself in – which, Adam has to admit, has probably worked in the past. He went too far, though – even if Adam was willing to tarnish his reputation for the right price, this man was prepared to use a child as a hostage.

Adam put the time he had to good use and planned accordingly. He corners Mr. Asmodeus in his office, making use of the fact that the man prefers to work late into the night and doesn’t believe in security measures beyond a truly outdated video surveillance system. Adam bypasses that with less trouble than the one in Miss Abaddon’s house and briefly considers being professionally insulted.

As he does every night, Mr. Asmodeus drinks copious amounts of coffee and regularly leaves his office to visit the bathroom. When he returns, Adam greets him with his gun levelled at the man’s face and Mr. Asmodeus’ own gun dangling from his free hand.

“Tut, tut. We’re becoming sloppy,” he chastises.

To his credit, Mr. Asmodeus doesn’t even try to run. He wouldn’t have gotten far, considering the first door in the hallway is almost halfway down and leads into nothing more than the bathroom the man just left. Instead, he walks over to his desk and sits down. He even smiles at Adam. “Whatever your grievance is, I’m sure we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement.”

“I really don’t think so,” Adam informs him dryly. “I’m not interested in your money. Or anything else you might want to offer.”

He can see the surprise on his opponent’s face, even if it’s quickly covered by that jovial mask again. “Well, then… what are you interested in, my young friend?”

Adam’s smile is less a smile and more a baring of teeth. “There’s a single bullet in this gun,” he tells Mr. Asmodeus, holding up the man’s own gun. “What I want is for you to use it, right here, right now, to make a nice hole in your own skull.”

He has the pleasure of watching the color drain from Asmodeus’ face, the jovial mask shatter to pieces. It reveals the less-than-pleasant true nature of the man beneath.

“And why would I want to do that?” Asmodeus growls at him. “No matter how fast you are, I could still wound you badly with that bullet. I’m not helpless without a weapon, boy.”

Adam snorts. “Do you truly believe if I thought this wouldn’t end with you dead in that chair, you’d have seen my face?” he asks. “There’s a lot of ways to make someone’s death look like a suicide. Your coffee is so strong I could probably pour enough poison into it to kill half the block and you wouldn’t taste a thing.”

Asmodeus' gaze flicks to his empty coffee cup, and he swallows visibly. Adam’s grin widens. “Black mamba venom is a little difficult to procure, but what a coincidence… one of your less than legal businesses is the import of all kinds of reptilians for private _collectors_. I’m sure you have imported a few black mambas over the years, no?”

As a matter of fact, the last import was barely two weeks ago. Adam watches Asmodeus lick his lips and shift in his seat as he tries not to react. He’s not entirely sure the man knows how the toxin works, though. “So, you see… you now have two options. You can refuse to go along with my suggestion as to the best use of this single bullet. Who knows, maybe you’d even manage to reach an ER in time, and maybe they’d even have the necessary anti-toxin to keep you from dying of suffocation. I wouldn’t bet on it, though. Or you can prove you’re not entirely stupid one last time and pick up this gun.”

The look on Asmodeus’ face as he realizes he’s been out-smarted from the beginning is priceless. Adam almost wishes he could take a picture.

It’s a lot less nerve-wracking to leave this time, without another assassin in the building who might have taken offence at being spotted. Adam straddles his bike where he parked it in a side street and spares a last glance up at that still-bright window, wondering who will be lucky enough to stumble into that mess. Then he shrugs and puts on his helmet. He made three promises to his lovers, and with the first one having been fulfilled, he can now keep the other two.

This time, he doesn’t sneak into a dark house with anger burning beneath his skin. There’s light shining from the windows in warm invitation when he pulls up to the house, and what’s warming his skin from the inside isn’t anger, but anticipation.

His lovers are waiting for him upstairs in their bedroom, though both are still fully dressed. Michael’s reading, Lucifer looks to have been working going by the laptop he sets aside as soon as Adam walks in. “Job finished?” he asks, gaze flicking over Adam as if he’s looking for physical evidence.

“Job finished,” Adam confirms. He sets his backpack down by the door and tilts his head, smirking at his lovers. “Still think you can take me?”

Lucifer nods, licking his lips. Michael is starting to smirk, too. Adam raises an eyebrow and spreads his arms. “Well, then,” he invites. “Come get me.”

Lucifer doesn’t lunge at him, as Adam had half-anticipated him to. Instead, he gets up slowly and walks up to where Adam’s still standing with his arms spread wide. “I will,” he promises softly before pulling Adam into a kiss that starts out slow and soft but turns hungry in short order. Adam shivers as nervousness spikes – he hasn’t allowed anyone to take him in quite a while, but when Lucifer breaks the kiss he makes a soft noise of protest.

“Still sure?” Lucifer asks quietly, one of his big hands stroking down Adam’s back to lightly grope at his ass. Another shiver runs down Adam’s spine, that one less nerves and more arousal. He nods, leaning in to nip at Lucifer’s lip.

“Still sure,” he promises just as quietly. “Come on, Luci. Ruin me for everyone else.”

He has no idea what made him say that, but the effect it has on Lucifer is amazing. Blue eyes darken, hands that were hesitant turn forceful, if still gentle.

“Gladly,” his lover rumbles before Adam’s being kissed again – and oh by all the Gods, Adam doesn’t think he’s been kissed like this before. He tries to keep up, but then there’s warmth at his back and hands wrapping around his wrists, Michael’s hot mouth on his throat. Adam moans and goes pliant in their hold.

Lucifer slowly breaks the kiss, his cock twitching at the soft sound Adam makes in protest. He looks up to meet Michael’s gaze, who nods and smirks at him. Being able to communicate without words is awesome.

Between them, they peel Adam out of his clothes, taking their sweet time with it – they are all aware this is probably the last time they’ll get to do this. Michael trails kisses all over Adam’s upper body as he removes layer after layer, adding gentle bites in places they’ve learned are sensitive. Adam moans for each bite, swaying in Lucifer’s hold. “Going to _kill me_ ,” he gasps out at one point, to which Michael chuckles and bites down again. Adam moans, and Lucifer smirks and kisses his throat.

“Just a little bit,” he murmurs, watching Michael’s long fingers divest Adam of his weapons harness. “Gorgeous thing.”

“Flatterer,” Adam manages before he jerks in Lucifer’s arms, groaning. Lucifer glances down and echoes the groan, watching Michael lick another stripe up Adam’s erection. Michael smirks up at them and licks his lips but doesn’t go back to teasing Adam. Instead, he gently helps him step out of the mess of trousers and pants, socks and boots before he rises to his feet and tugs Adam into his arms.

“Get naked,” he tells Lucifer, grinning when Adam wriggles to turn and watch. “And then get on the bed. You wanted him in your lap, you’ll get him in your lap.”

Lucifer groans and complies. He doesn’t bother going slowly, instead flinging his clothes to the pile that was started by Adam’s clothes. He crawls onto the mattress backwards and shuffles until he hits the headboard, holding out his arms. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Michael drawls, but nudges Adam forward. “My turn.”

Adam laughs and climbs onto the bed, crawls up Lucifer’s legs until he can settle himself in his lap. Lucifer purrs at the sensation of all that warm, naked skin against his own, reaches up to touch and stroke. Adam shivers but doesn’t pull away, watching Lucifer from beneath lowered lashes. He’s relaxed and pliant when Lucifer tugs him forward to kiss him again, gentle where his hands are turning greedy and just a little rough in their touch.

The bed dips when Michael crawls up to join them. He settles on Lucifer’s legs behind Adam, rests his chin on Adam’s shoulder and waits until Lucifer lets Adam up for air. “Do you want Luci or me to open you up, pretty Hunter?” he purrs into Adam’s ear, smirking when Adam groans. Lucifer sucks in a breath, his hands going tight where they’re holding onto Adam.

“You,” Adam breathes, letting his head loll back onto Michael’s shoulder. “Luci can distract me – oh _fuck_!”

Lucifer smirks and releases the nipple he’d squeezed, stroking the sensitive nub. “Distraction enough?” he teases, watching Adam bite his lower lip. Adam nods, blinking open eyes that have gone dark with arousal. His hair is a mess from their fingers, his lips already starting to look kiss-swollen and red. Lucifer wants to kiss him again, make those lips plumper and redder, but the visual of Adam practically draped over Michael is appealing, too. He settles for using one hand to play with a nipple and the other to reach down and run teasing caresses along the other man’s erection, which results in Adam biting his lower lip again. Lucifer smirks and lets his hand rest on Adam’s hip for the moment because Adam said to distract him, not drive him crazy. Lucifer can be good for their lover.

Adam can’t quite think anymore, but he knows he’s damn glad he agreed to this. Lucifer’s hands on his body, Michael holding him up, both of them surrounding him… he’s all but trembling with need already, relaxed in a way he hasn’t been in bed in what might be years. He shivers when Michael’s fingers slide down his spine and disappear just above his ass, then flinches a little when they return freshly slicked, feeling cold against his skin. Michael murmurs an apology against his throat, but Adam is entirely distracted from that – both because Lucifer is touching his cock again, and because Michael’s slick finger is rubbing over his entrance now, and he can’t decide between sucking in breaths so he can moan or holding his breath in anticipation.

The decision is taken from him when one finger pushes in, slow and gentle in a way he’s _never_ been touched, and Adam’s breath leaves him on a moan. He clings to Lucifer’s shoulders and breathes through that first intrusion, but he doesn’t get a chance to really catch his breath. As soon as he relaxes again, Michael starts moving his hand, teasing, rubbing, stretching… Adam is dimly aware he’s making noises, but he’s beyond caring.

The fingers teasing his nipple turn cruel, then gentle again. One finger becomes two, making him feel the stretch, and Adam groans when his body opens for the intrusion, welcomes them in. He snarls when Michael’s rhythm stays slow and careful, because he’s being _teased_ and he wants… “More,” he gasps out, turning his head to nip the throat in reach. “Not a virgin,” he adds, rocking back in emphasis. “Harder.”

Michael hisses with the nip but complies with Adam’s demand. Adam allows himself to get lost in the rhythm, the sensations of being held and worked open. He barely notices when two fingers become three, but he yelps when those fingers brush over his prostate. Michael chuckles and repeats the caress a few times before stilling, his fingers pushed in as deep as they can go. He kisses Adam before he can protest, stealing his breath again with how _hungry_ his kiss is.

“Ready?” he murmurs against Adam’s mouth when he’s allowed to breathe again, and Adam blinks several times before he groans and nods. His body clenches around Michael’s fingers as they slide out, not wanting to let them go. Michael hisses a low curse and kisses him again, short and hard, then nudges him forward.

“Go ride our greedy one,” he purrs. “You can have my fingers later if you want to.”

Adam thinks he might, but Michael is right. He promised a ride to Lucifer, and his lover has been very good. He shifts forward on his knees until he’s straddling Lucifer, wraps a hand around the man’s cock – hot and slick with lube, and he can probably thank Michael for that – and starts to lower himself, and _sweet Gods and Goddesses_.

It’s been too long. Fingers and toys might be fun, but they’re a poor substitute for the real thing. Adam grits his teeth and manages to go slowly by sheer force of will. Lucifer is trembling beneath him, staring up at Adam with lust-blown eyes, and yeah, Adam can relate. Lucifer’s cock stretches him open wider than Michael’s fingers did, adding just the right amount of ache to the pleasure he’s all but drowning in. Adam clings to Lucifer’s shoulders and takes a moment to breathe, to enjoy once he’s slid down all the way, impaled as deeply as he can be. Lucifer’s hands on his hips flex, then dig in again when Adam smirks and starts to move.

Lucifer groans and clings to Adam’s hips, gritting his teeth to keep from simply dragging him back down again. Adam’s muscles flex beneath his skin as he moves, finding a rhythm that’s just this side of ‘bloody fucking _tease_ ’, and he’s hot and slick around Lucifer’s cock. Lucifer kind of wants to flip them over, hold him down and pound into him. He also knows that if he tried, he might end up tied to their bed and unable to touch as Adam takes his sweet time in riding him, or he might end up not getting this at all.

The assassin in his lap smirks at him and leans close for a kiss, one that’s just as hungry and out of control as Lucifer feels. Adam’s fingers dig harder into his shoulders, and Lucifer can both feel and hear the moan vibrate through him when Adam’s erection brushes Lucifer’s belly. His lover breaks their kiss on a gasp and straightens, licks his lips. Then he grins, bright and hungry and _dangerous_ in a way that sets Lucifer’s blood to boiling, lets his head fall back – and _moves_. Lucifer groans a curse as his hips twitch up into the fast, hard pace Adam’s riding him with now, chasing his own pleasure. He hisses a curse on a downward push that has his hole clench around Lucifer. “There,” he moans, and Lucifer agrees because fuck, that felt amazing. He helps Adam keep that angle, clinging to control and sanity by his fingernails as he watches Adam’s erection twitch and leak with each downward push, feels his hole clench around him on each upwards glide.

He has no idea how long they’ve been at it when Adam blinks open eyes that are almost all pupil and pins him with that look. “Close,” his lover breathes out, trembling where he’s stopped moving with Lucifer’s cock just inside his hole. “Move.”

Oh _fuck_ , yes. Lucifer complies almost before his brain has caught up with that order, thrusting up into Adam with nothing close to finesse. It’s hard and desperate and uncoordinated, but Adam moans with each thrust and trembles above and around him, his gaze never once leaving Lucifer. His hold on Lucifer’s shoulders tightens to the point where he knows he’ll have bruises, but he doesn’t care because he can feel his body grow tight and tense in preparation, and Adam’s stiffening in his hold, his moans turning to short little gasps before he comes between them with a short, harsh shout. Lucifer keeps thrusting up into him, keeps fucking him through it, and Adam groans and sags forward, limp with pleasure. His mouth is hot on Lucifer’s throat, and the bite stings. Lucifer gasps and curses and pulls Adam’s hips down hard, thrusts going wild as he finally comes, spilling hot and wet inside his lover. Adam groans softly, fingers flexing on his shoulders.

They catch their breath like that, Adam resting against Lucifer, for a long moment. Lucifer finally releases his tight grip on Adam’s hips, stroking apologetic fingers over the bruises already forming, and Adam chuckles lazily and kisses the spot he bit. “Shall we take care of Mika?” he breathes against Lucifer’s ear, and Lucifer opens one eye just a little to peer at Michael, who’s stretched out on his side next to them, watching them with a smile and a hand stroking his erection.

“Yes,” he agrees just as softly. “Ideas?”

Adam hums, and Lucifer can feel him grin against his throat. “My mouth, your fingers?”

“Fuck yes,” Lucifer agrees. He sighs a little when Adam shifts up and off him, but the sight of his lover stretching before he turns his grin on Michael, and Michael’s look of alarmed eagerness when Lucifer does the same, is worth it.

Adam leaves when both his lovers are still fast asleep, curled up in their warm nest of blankets. He nearly said fuck it all and crawled back in with them several times, telling himself a few hours more wouldn’t make anything worse… but he knows he’s kidding himself.

One of them would ask him to stay, just a day more, and Adam would stay. One day. And another, and another, and then one day he’d find himself settled in as their kept lover and start hating himself for it. Or them. That might actually be worse.

So Adam grit his teeth and snuck out of the bedroom, out of the house and into the grey pre-dawn light. It doesn’t take too long to strap his bags to his motorcycle and put on his gloves, his helmet. He’s out of excuses.

Adam spares one last glance up at the silent, sleeping house before he mounts his motorcycle and starts the engine. He doesn’t look back as he pulls out into the street, and if his eyes are burning… well, he didn’t at all last night. It’s a normal reaction.

(And if he takes more breaks than he usually would on a trip like this just to be able to shift and feel the bruises and sore spots his lovers left him with, well. Nobody but himself needs to know about that.)


	7. Chapter 7

Michael sets the mug of tea down by Lucifer’s hand and then curls up on the sofa, his own mug cradled in his hands. Lucifer stirs, then, blinking at Michael before he wraps him in his arms and noses into his neck.

They’ve been like this since they woke up that morning to a missing third and a folded slip of paper pinned to their bedroom door, telling them goodbye in Adam’s loopy scrawl. Michael knew their arrangement was temporary, would end sooner or later – but he’d silently hoped for later. Lucifer, apparently, did the same, and so they spent most of their day curled up around each other on their sofa.

The sound of a vehicle pulling up in front of the house has Lucifer stir a while later – Michael has no idea how much later, only knows that his mug of tea is half-empty and mostly cold. He frowns and sets it down next to Lucifer’s untouched mug. “That’s not a motorcycle.”

“No,” Lucifer agrees, but he sits up straighter when the doorbell rings. “Maybe Castiel forgot his key?”

It’s an option, but Michael is still hoping for someone else. He waits, holding his breath, as Jack comes running. He’s followed by Meg, who’s still here during the day to look after him and make sure the boy is safe. Jack’s loud squeal of “MOMMY!” has Michael blink at Lucifer in surprise, but while he’s disappointed it’s not Adam… well, it could be worse. Far worse.

Kelly looks exhausted and pale compared to when they last saw her, but she’s smiling brightly as Meg shows her into the living room. She’s also carrying Jack, who’s clinging to her with his arms and legs and clearly refuses to let go even when Lucifer, then Michael wrap her in an embrace. Michael can’t blame the boy.

“It’s good to see you,” he tells her earnestly, releasing her so she can finally sit down. Kelly’s smile wavers for a second before she hugs her son tighter and nods.

“It’s good to be home,” she agrees. “Castiel…?”

“Physical therapy,” Lucifer supplies immediately. “He’ll be fine, Kelly. He picks up Jack in the afternoons. Should I call him, ask him to come right now?”

Kelly nods, her entire expression a silent plea. Lucifer kisses her cheek and leaves the room to make the call, and Michael sits down next to Kelly. His heart is still heavy, but he feels a little lighter than just five minutes ago.

Jack falls asleep still clinging to Kelly, sandwiched between his parents on the sofa. Kelly smiles down at her son and then up at Castiel when the man pulls her closer. They’ve been speaking of nothing of consequence until now, all of it fit for Jack’s young ears. Now that he’s asleep, though…

“What happened, Kelly?” Lucifer asks quietly. “We thought they’d killed you.”

“They came close,” Kelly agrees quietly, leaning into Castiel. Her smile turns into a frown. “A… friend warned me at the last second, but I couldn’t get back home in time. You hid Cas and Jack so well… it took me a few days to figure out my family wasn’t dead, and by then I’d already decided I wanted revenge.” Her face hardens. “Friends shouldn’t use your secrets against you, and friends should know to leave your family the fuck alone.”

“You’re the one who hired the guy our Hunter ran into at Abaddon’s house,” Lucifer murmurs. “That’s why you didn’t come here?”

“I thought she might be looking for me,” Kelly confirms. She looks up at Castiel, and whatever he sees in her face has him tighten his arm around her shoulders, pull her in closer. “Forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Castiel rumbles. Lucifer smiles, because his cousin’s heart has always been big and strong enough to forgive and forget many things. “You came back when it was safe.”

Kelly nods, still looking up at Castiel, and Lucifer chuckles and reaches for Michael’s hand. His partner squeezes his fingers once. “Go on, put the kid to bed,” he tells them with a smile. “Get some rest. You can go home tomorrow.”

Castiel helps his wife get up from the sofa with their son still clinging to her in his sleep, then smiles his thanks at Lucifer and Michael before the three of them leave the room. Lucifer watches them go, then sighs. “One question answered,” he murmurs.

“We’ll tell him when he shows up,” Michael says quietly, and Lucifer blinks at him in surprise. Michael shrugs. “I’m stubborn.”

Lucifer finds himself smiling as he tugs his partner close for a soft kiss. “You are,” he agrees. “Come on, Mika. We’ll have a lot of work on our plates once Asmodeus’ business partners come looking for new deals.”

And if he takes the time the following morning to leave a message in an unused chatroom, hidden behind encryptions and passwords… well, nobody needs to know.

The weather is perfect, warm and sunny but not stiflingly hot. It’s peaceful here, with most of the holiday homes around the lake still empty as families with children wait for school terms to be over.

It should be perfect for a few weeks of rest and relaxation.

Adam doesn’t sleep well, and he’s been more relaxed waiting for a target to show up.

He startles badly when his phone starts vibrating across the table. Sam’s name and face flash on the screen, and Adam scowls at the innocent device and refuses to answer it for a few seconds more. When he does, it’s with a grumpy, “what?”

“Hi Adam, nice to hear you, Adam, yes thank you we’re fine,” his brother snarks at him. Adam growls and refuses to smile. “Can’t one call their baby brother anymore?”

“No,” Adam growls and hangs up. He feels guilty at once, because he knows he’s being unfair, but he can’t talk to Sam right now. His brother would know at once something’s wrong and want to _talk_ about it. Adam just wants to forget.

The finger-shaped bruises on his hips are almost gone.

Adam tells himself he’ll be glad when they are.

Of course, he should have known hanging up on Sam was a bad idea. His brother is a dirty cheat. He remembers that fact about around the time Sam walks up the wooden steps leading to his little balcony, carrying a sixpack and a determined expression. His brother plops down in the chair across from Adam, sets down the bottles on the table, and turns the full might of his puppy-dog eyes on Adam.

“What happened, Adam?”

Dirty. Cheat.

Adam buys a little time by opening a bottle and taking a long pull, but the weight of Sam’s stare gets heavier and heavier, and he finally just closes his eyes and starts talking. Tells Sam about Lucifer, about Michael (doesn’t mention their names, because he’s not that stupid, thank you very much). He tells him about that first night, where he crept into a bedroom thinking about betrayals and ended up naked between the sheets. How _right_ it felt to be with them. He whispers when he admits to how he nearly allowed himself to forget why he was there. He doesn’t look up when he tells Sam about that last night, how hard it was to crawl out of their bed that morning and leave, but he peers up at his brother when he’s stopped talking and Sam hasn’t said anything for three full minutes.

Sam’s looking at him, not mocking or judging. Instead, he seems… sad.

“Why’d you leave then, if you wanted to stay?”

Adam grimaces and tries to take another pull of his beer, only to realize the bottle is empty. Fuck. “Our jobs don’t exactly encourage having a happy love life on the side,” he mutters. “Remember what happened to Dad? Twice?”

Sam winces, but hands Adam another beer. “Can you really compare that, though?” he asks in turn, and Adam frowns over his sip. Sam runs his hand through his hair and grimaces. “Look, from what I got there your guys knew what they got into with you better than most would. That’s a world of difference to your Mum, and you know it.”

Adam wants to snarl and deny it, but Sam’s right. Lucifer and Michael knew exactly who and what he was when they invited him into their bed – hell, he’d been holding a naked blade to Michael’s neck just moments before. His mother had thought John Winchester was a traveling salesman, something she’d paid for with her life when someone decided to take revenge on John’s family.

“And your Mom?” he asks instead, watching Sam flinch again. He feels a little guilty, because Mary is still a sore spot for his brothers, but he doesn’t want to think about how Sam may be right.

“Mom was different, too,” Sam argues after taking a long pull from his bottle. “That wasn’t Dad’s fault. She got careless and it caught up with her. That’s on her, not on Dad. If your guys fucked up it’d be on them, too, not on you.”

Adam growls and slams his bottle down on the table, but Sam’s used to Dean. He doesn’t flinch back. “Adam.”

Adam resists for as long as he can before he looks up to meet his brother’s earnest gaze. “Were you happy?”

“Yes.” Wait. “No.” That’s not right, either. “I was happy, but… more?” he tries. Sam gives him a soft smile.

“Then go back, baby brother, and don’t be an idiot. Sometimes, it’s that simple.”

Adam swallows. “Fuck you, Sammy.”

Sam laughs and hugs him, and Adam clings to his brother’s shirt and allows himself to think about it. Going back. He closes his eyes and imagines having someone to return to after a contract, someone who’d care if he’s tired and bruised. Someone who wouldn’t flinch back from the violence of his world. Someone he could be himself with, all the time, and not have to worry about making them fear him.

“Okay,” he whispers, and Sam’s arms tighten around him. “I’ll go back.”

Michael’s eyes snap open to the darkness of their bedroom. There’s a heavy weight on his chest and arms, one that isn’t Lucifer’s embrace. He blinks rapidly, trying to see – and freezes at the sensation of cold metal against his throat. His heart jumps in his chest before he recognizes the shape above him.

Adam grins at him, his eyes gleaming in the weak light coming in from the garden. He’s still wearing his motorcycle leathers down to the gloves, his hair is wild from the helmet, and he’s holding a blade to Michael’s throat – even if it’s the blunt side this time. “Hey honey,” he whispers. “I’m home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos make an author's day!


End file.
